Men Without Faces
One of them is watching from the shadows again. They think I can't tell, but I can. I can feel their eyes on me, now.
Right over there!
I know, I know. Just my imagination, right? He’s not really there, I must be sick, yada, yada, yada.
You have no idea how much reality I see now. They are hunting for me. He’s probably being drawn to your dog.
Yes, your dog!
No, I like him just fine, but I don’t think they do. I’m not sure why.
Shh! Wait! Don't look over there now!
I used to be like you. I had a nine-to-five, an apartment and a bank account. Hell, I even had a dog, once upon a time. That was before they came for me—the men without faces.
Just what I said! They have no faces!
I wonder how they talk to each other. I see them turn their empty hoods toward each other, sharing some kind of sinister secret, but their faces are never there. Do you think they read minds?
I don't know!
The government probably, or those aliens that run things in D.C. I’ve been hiding for years. I used to think I was safe when I was sleeping, but now, I’m not so sure. I never really get to relax, because they always find me. Just like that one in the alley over there.
Of course you don’t see him!
Haven’t you been listening? It’s ME they are after—for now. If I were you, I’d invest in a good warm jacket. They sometimes lose track of you, if you are warm. Unless you have eaten peanut butter. They can always find peanut butter.
No, I don’t know why!
Go on, then. Go back to your safe little world of shopping malls and surfing the internet and electric ovens and clean underwear. You might consider getting rid of the dog though. I think dogs can see them too, and don’t like them at all. See? He’s looking right at that guy over there.
Crap! I think he saw me looking at him!
Crazy? I used to think that way too, until I saw one up close. Eyes without a face, hiding in the depths of its hood. I wish they’d just go away, but they never do.
Fine! Keep walking, mister! Who needs you, anyway?!